


Ramblings

by Popcorn_Lover



Category: Captain America (Movies), Doctor Who, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), James Bond (Craig movies), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-24 21:57:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9788882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Popcorn_Lover/pseuds/Popcorn_Lover
Summary: They are unrelated and random one-shots of Molly with AU characters but underlying Sherlolly as ending.





	1. Eleventh Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing of Sherlock BBC and/or Doctor Who.

Molly Hooper considered today to be an ordinary day until a man entered the morgue. "How are you doing, Molly? Fancy a trip across time and space, the adventure of your lifetime? I'd asked you once before but you declined so I'm asking you one more time just to be super sure." The Doctor titled his head and waggled an eyebrow at her, perfectly portraying the image of a child going trick-or-treating during Halloween but the pathologist knew better.

"My shift is over anyway. Let's go, Doctor. Anywhere you want." The Doctor came up with a bitter grin at Molly's last sentence. That was the crux of it all, wasn't it? The mighty Time Lord could go anywhere he desired, anywhere but the bloody fixed points in time including the one that Amy and Rory resided in. The pathologist quietly slipped her hand into his and squeezed gently. The Doctor looked down and patted Molly's hand as the pair walked into the Tardis.

"We fought with a group of alien refugees that had huge fangs," The Doctor bared his teeth to illustrate the point, "and stopped Venice from becoming the second Atlantis." The pathologist squinted at him, "So Atlantis was real?" He nodded eagerly, "Oh yes, Molly, it's real, very real and technically, they were aliens too but much, much friendlier than those we encountered in 1580."

The Doctor then brought Molly to 19th century France where "We met Vincent Van Gogh and Amy tried her best to rescue him but his fate remained unchanged…Well, we reached the daily limit of sad tales, didn't we?", post WW2 London to "Say hello to my dear old friend, Winston Churchill", and lastly the Central Park in 21st century New York City.

The Doctor and the pathologist stood in front of a tombstone and neither spoke for a long period of time. The wind blew on softly, as if it were Amy and Rory comforting the Doctor and telling him that it was alright except it wasn't. Everything was not fine because they were dead, because he was unable to save them.

Molly broke the silence, "I do not know her as well as you do, Doctor but I would hazard a guess that if she knew the ending of her story right from the start, she would still go with you. You can mourn for their passing and you were when you brought me to the places that you went with them in the past but you should also celebrate the time that you had spent together. I always believe that if I truly remember someone, they will forever live in my heart and as far as I am concerned, they never left."

"I assume, like the first time, you are not going to stay around?" Their eyes connected and both of them knew very well her answer to his question. "He still needs me; at least that's what I think and so long he needs me, I will be there for him. You can always come and visit me, Doctor, whenever and wherever." The man in a bowtie kissed Molly's forehead and said, "Sherlock Holmes is a very lucky man and for your sake, I hope he realises that."

_The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don't always soften the bad things, but vice versa, the bad things don't necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I made any mistakes in regards to the designated universe, do forgive me (research could only get me so far).


	2. Steve Rogers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing of Sherlock BBC and/or Captain America.

Molly Hooper was too kind to blame anyone but herself for the predicament of her damaged phone. She was preoccupied with the idea of going to her friend’s wedding without a plus one. Molly hoped Meena would not be matchmaking her with the groom’s friends and the pathologist groaned inwardly at the mere thought of it until she hit a wall. Or at least Molly felt like she did.

“I am so sorry, Miss. Are you alright? Here, I’ll help you up. I am really sorry, Miss.” So it wasn’t a wall the pathologist slammed into. With Molly’s breath temporarily knocked out of her lungs, the wall, erm, man lifted her from the ground effortlessly. Molly brushed off the dirt as he waited patiently by her side.

It was after a few seconds later when the pathologist recalled that the man was still standing there. “Oh no, it’s not your fault; my mind was somewhere else.” Molly mumbled and looked at the man with a small smile. The pathologist’s blush deepened as she stared into baby blue eyes which belonged to a man that embodied the term ‘Greek god’.

_Get a grip on yourself, Molly Hooper! And close your mouth before you swallow a fly!_

When her soul finally found its way back, Molly then noticed that the screen of her phone was cracked. “Sod it.” The pathologist frowned and the man was quick to say, “I’ll compensate you, Miss. How much do you need to repair it?” Molly shook her head in response, she could not let him pay for the damage when it was only an accident and a light bulb went off in her head. “If you don’t mind me asking, do you have any plans for tonight?”

It was an insane proposition but Molly’s instincts told her that she could trust this man, superhero or not. He answered in a polite but cautious manner, “No, I don’t have anything planned for tonight, Miss.” So the pathologist decided to take the plunge. The worst thing that could happen was her self-esteem ending up like her phone’s screen but chances were they would probably never see each other again so no harm in trying right?

“I’m about to attend my friend’s wedding reception…and I was wondering if you would like to be my plus one? There will be cake, umm, food, wine and dancing! B-but if you don’t like dancing or you are following a strict diet or both, you don’t have to dance or eat or…you know what? Let’s just pretend that this conversation didn’t take place. I’m sorry for wasting your time; I’ll stop holding you captive now…”

Molly was about to walk, no, run away from the utterly embarrassing scene when the man touched her elbow. “I rather like dancing and I’m not on any kind of diet. As a matter of fact, my friends would tell you that I have a big appetite. Uh, for food, that is but I assure you that I have good table manners.” The man grinned sheepishly at her and she smiled back. “I’m Molly Hooper and thank you for willing to be my plus one.” The corners of his eyes crinkled attractively, “I’m Steve Rogers and it’s my pleasure to be your plus one, Molly.”

Steve accepted her invitation for a number of reasons. One, he was on vacation. Two, even Bruce asked him to go out and meet new people. Three, how could he say no to that beautiful lady? Molly informed him that he only needed to wear a dress shirt and black trousers since it was a ‘causal’ wedding but Steve also wore a tie and blazer, better to be overdressed than underdressed. The pathologist waved at him and gave him a shy smile. “You look...nice, Molly.” Great, of all the compliments he could pay to her, he told her that she looked _nice_.

“Thank you, you look nice too, Steve.” An understatement, Molly thought. The moment they entered the venue, the Captain could see that the guests started to sneak curious glances at them or at him to be precise. Steve wondered if Molly also knew of his alter ego. Sensing his hesitation, the pathologist whispered, “If you are feeling uncomfortable, we can just stay for a while and go, my friend will understand.” The Captain did not want Molly to leave her friend’s wedding early because of him.

“There’s no need for that, Molly. We will stay here as long as you want.” In spite of his reassurance, while waiting for Molly to ‘powder her nose’; Steve caught the pathologist secretly switching the escort cards and placing theirs on the table furthest away from the dance floor. He should give her a proper lesson on stealth someday, the Captain chuckled to himself. “Done! I mean, I’m back! Sorry to keep you waiting.” With his enhanced hearing, Steve could pick up Molly’s slightly laboured breathing.

The Captain chose to keep quiet about the little operation that she carried out and yet he could not resist teasing her, Tony was clearly becoming a bad influence on him, “You sure sound excited over powdering your nose, doll.” Molly was surprised at her comeback, “That’s because I know I have a date that every woman here wants, perhaps except Meena.” Steve pretended to concur wholeheartedly and the pair tried to contain their laughter as they made their way over to the table.          

“I think it’s time to dance.” The Captain stood from his seat and offered an arm to her. “We don’t have to dance, Steve.” He shot the pathologist a mocking glare, “Nonsense, who goes to a wedding and not dance?” She smiled albeit sadly, “The dance floor brought back some memories, that’s all.” Steve replied softly, “Me too.” In an attempt to cheer both of them up, Molly hooked her arm around his and said, “Well then, I think it’s time to face our demons, Steve.”  

The Captain held her hand and slipped his other arm around her waist as they danced slowly in the dim lights.

_I…I love you. I love you._

_Stop it, Molly. Stop thinking about it. You had the talk with Sherlock already; he only said it to save your life._

The pathologist felt the sudden surge of tears so Steve tugged Molly closer to him, enveloping her into a protective cocoon and she rested her head against his broad chest. When the pathologist saw flashes emitting from the phones of other guests, she knew that was the sign to leave the place now. Despite being the superior one in terms of physical strength, the Captain allowed Molly to drag him away from the wedding.

Steve took the Ironman’s (unsolicited) advice quite seriously which was randomly thrown to him when Tony overrode JARVIS during one of the Avengers’ meeting that the billionaire blatantly skipped, “Capiscle, I heard that you were gathering dating advice so here’s one, never deny what a lady wants! Words of absolute golden wisdom!” And the message ended up broadcasting from the Stark Tower for all the New Yorkers to hear. Steve was not convinced at all that Tony ‘butt-dialled’ both the recording and play buttons but believed that he was in fact high from caffeine.           

Steve wrapped his blazer around the pathologist’s shoulders to shield her from the strong winds. “I hope I did not ruin your friend’s wedding or what was supposed to be an enjoyable night for you.” The Captain’s face and voice were filled with guilt. “You didn’t, Steve. I had a great night because you are a great plus one.” Molly swung their clasped hands like a child. To her surprise, holding hands with Captain America was not awkward. It was…relaxing.

“Can I ask about her?” He did not pull away his hand so Molly was relieved to know that Steve was not offended by her forwardness. “She made me a better man and till today, she still does. I miss her, very much.” The pathologist turned so abruptly that the blazer slid off from her shoulders. Molly hugged him as tightly as she could and the Captain returned the sentiment but he used lesser strength of course.

“You remind me of him, always feeling the need to protect others. It’s okay to not always be strong or invincible; it’s also okay to show pain or sadness, that does not make you any less of a superhero, you know. Just because you wear a mask does not mean you need to hide all of your emotions behind it.” Steve placed his chin on top of her head and nodded with his eyes closed.

They sat down on the wet grass with his blazer acting as a makeshift mat, much to the Captain’s insistence; he did not want Molly to dirty her dress. The pathologist folded her legs underneath while Steve laid on his back and propped himself up with his elbows. “Sometimes I thought to myself what will happen if I never met him.” Molly took in the captivating scene as the stars twinkled in the sky. “Then maybe I will never know true happiness and sorrow.”

The night was coming to an end as the Captain walked her to the hotel. “I hope you will find back your happiness, Steve. I know you are a ‘certified’ superhero but no matter what, please be safe. You are welcome to come and find me anytime you want.” Even when standing on tiptoe, she could barely reach his cheek so her kiss landed devilishly close to his lips. “Thank you, Molly.”

Alone in her room, Molly's phone vibrated and the cracked screen made it hard for the pathologist to read the message, especially the last sentence where the damage was at its worst.

_When are you coming back?_

_Rosie observed that you were not present for her customary bedtime storytelling._

_I miss you._

_\- SH_

Her phone vibrated for the second time before she could make out all the words from the previous message.

_Autocorrect._

_I meant Rosie, she misses you._

_\- SH_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah right, Sherlock.


	3. James Bond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing of Sherlock BBC and/or James Bond movies.

Molly Hooper was comfortable with the idea of eating alone. The habit arose from her irregular eating hours due to the rotating duty roster of hospital shifts. It was also faster, eating alone so disregarding the pitying look from the waiter, Molly read the menu before making a quick decision to have medium rare streak and a glass of red wine for her dinner.

The pathologist was taking a leisure stroll along the famous river Seine and enjoying the night scene when a shadow attracted her attention. Molly was not sure why she chased after the shadow but she still did it anyway. “I’m picking up Sherlock’s tendency to dive head first into danger,” the pathologist mumbled as she followed the shadow to the poorly lit back alleys.

The sounds made were soft but clear enough for Molly to realize that they were bullets fired, probably from guns with silencers. Things one could learn from a consulting detective. Molly managed to wedge herself in between two brick walls and as the shadow half-ran half-stumbled along the cobbled streets, the pathologist reached out her hand to drag the arm that she caught into the tiny space with her.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” she spoke quietly to him when a group of men walked past them. They were shouting in various foreign languages and split into smaller groups to better search for the man that Molly apparently just rescued. Eventually, the footsteps faded away. Their chests were heaving, his from exhaustion while hers from relief and their harsh breathing mingled from the close proximity.

They were pressed up against each other; every move however slight could be felt by the other person. What a way to meet someone for the first time. After subjecting Molly with his scrutinizing ‘scan’ which reminded her of Sherlock, the man edged out of their hiding place. He looked around warily then signalled to the pathologist that it was safe to come out.

“Are you alright? Do you-” The rest of Molly’s sentence was interrupted by the shots from the men who were sure that they missed something and turned back. The man in his tuxedo cursed and grabbing the pathologist’s hand, began to run in earnest. Molly could literally hear the bullets whizzing past her ears until one of them came into contact with her shoulder, “Argh.” He turned his head to Molly and cursed again.

The pair took four consecutive sharp turns and finally arrived at the main street. They entered a nearby pub and ignoring the numerous protests erupted from the queue, he pulled the pathologist into the only restroom. The man briefly examined Molly’s injury, “Flesh wound,” and tied a strip of cloth around her shoulder to stop the bleeding for the time being. She winced at the pressure applied to the injury and muttered, “What about you? Are you wounded?”

He gave Molly an odd look then shook his head. Someone banged on the door with vengeance and screamed in French, “Enough with the toilet sex! There are people here who actually need to pee!” The pathologist was glad that the restroom’s lighting was not very good so she could hide her blush. He draped his jacket on the pathologist to cover her bloodied shirt and opened the door.

Throwing a glance at the long queue, the man kissed Molly on the lips that seemed to further exasperate the crowd and of course, caught the pathologist completely off guard. “What was that for?” she whispered angrily and he replied, “Adding substance to our cover story. I believe we have gotten them off our tails but to be safe, we are going to my bolthole to treat that wound of yours.” Right, another reminder of Sherlock Holmes.

It was not an abandoned mansion or one of the rooms in a brothel, his bolthole was in fact an ordinary one-room flat with a connecting bathroom. “Take a seat,” he gestured to the well-worn couch and came out of the bathroom, carrying a first aid box. Molly sat down as instructed but gingerly. Amused, the man cocked an eyebrow at the pathologist. “Afraid that I will kiss you again?” He admired how prettily she blushed. “I’m not going to; unless you ask then I would have to otherwise it would be rude of me.”        

Molly understood that he was merely trying to distract her from the pain yet she could not help and hiss a little. The man looked up, “Sorry, it’s the first time I’m treating someone else’s injury.” He was almost finished with the stitching and the pathologist said, “But you are used to be treated for _your_ injuries.” The comment was neither confirmed nor denied, not that it was required. “How do you know you saved the right man? You did not even ask for my name.”

“I know I saved the right man and I’m Molly Hooper.” He smirked at the pathologist’s naïve answer. Nonetheless, the man gave her his name. “Bond, James Bond.” Molly inspected the spy’s handiwork and considered her words carefully. “Call me a busybody but I think the person that you lost wouldn’t want you to be so reckless and die as a result.” Bond stood up to put some distance between them, “I would have to agree with you, Miss Hooper that unfortunately you are far too assuming on things you know absolutely nothing about.”

The pathologist knew she hit a spot painful enough to warrant such a reaction from him. “M would upset to see you in this state, Mr Bond.” He moved towards to her; his every step exuded danger, “Who are you exactly? And before you answer my question, keep in mind that I can easily kill you.”

Molly calmly met his eyes, “No one important and I’m not doubting your capability to kill but you wouldn’t…He was like you, didn’t give a damn about his own life, like it no longer mattered because he lost his world and that knocked him off balance. I lost count how many times I found him lying on my kitchen floor, bleeding and unconscious and then I would have to try my hardest just to keep him alive.”

He chuckled sarcastically, “Was that why you saved me? Because your maternal instincts were acting up?” She murmured, “When M was still alive, when I occasionally moonlighted for her, M told me that out of all the double 0s, she was most concerned about you so for her sake, do take more care, Mr Bond.”

“As usual, how presumptuous of you, Miss Hooper. Should I consider the option of silencing you with a kiss?” The spy asked as he inched closer to her face. “Well, how presumptuous of you, Mr Bond to think that you can keep me quiet with your kiss.” His lips curled up slowly, “If I were to kiss you, Miss Hooper, I assure you that you will not be quiet about it.” Bond wondered if her blush could turn any shade deeper. “O-once again, how presumptuous of you, Mr Bond.” Molly shut her eyes in embarrassment at her weak retort.

He pulled back at the very last moment and walked away, “Get some sleep; I will escort you to the Embassy first thing in the morning.” The pathologist touched her burning cheeks and exhaled audibly. M did warn her about 007 and his ways should she ever encounter that man.

Safely inside the Embassy, Molly felt the need to caution the spy. “Mr Bond, I’m a pathologist so I hope I will never see you again.” He left after saying casually, “More’s the pity. I would love to see you again, Miss Hooper but preferably not in the manner of being sent to your morgue.” It would be interesting for the two men to meet, Molly thought while rubbing her aching shoulder absentmindedly.

“What are you doing here, Sherlock? Are you hurt?” She was surprised to find the consulting detective in her flat during this time of the day. Sure, this was his bolthole, it had been so for the past two years but Sherlock usually would only come here at night. “I’m fine; I just wanted to make sure that you are too, Molly.” And with those words, the agony that he put her through by helping him to fake his death and keeping him ‘dead’ dissipated. What a fool she was, a fool in love.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters are not in chorological order and I just thought it would be cool if Molly worked part-time for M in the past, nothing too dangerous though :)


	4. Newt Scamander

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing of Sherlock BBC and/or Fantastic Beasts And Where To Find Them.

Back in London, Newt alighted from the ship when a man bumped into him, upsetting his suitcase thus opening it just a smidge. The sneaky Niffler proved to be a magical creature of an opportunistic disposition and made its escape without a second thought, it detested the idea of being kept in a confined space. "Not again," the magizoologist groaned as he embarked on the familiar journey of recapturing the beast.

An experienced fugitive, the Niffler agilely darted under the legs of unsuspecting muggles while Newt had to constantly apologise to other travellers, ladies especially, for bending at an embarrassing level and at the same time, dodging hand-held suitcases coming from all directions. To his horror, a pair of gloved hands picked up the Niffler and hid it inside her coat as the creature struggled. "Hush now, you have created more than enough trouble for your master, don't you think?" Guilty, it decided that running away from home was too tiring and stopped squirming.

"High time to get that lock fixed, Newt." The lady arched her delicate eyebrow and remarked with amusement. His shoulders sagged in relief, "You have no idea how glad am I to see you, Molls." She smiled at the response, "I sure hope so. It's being a while since I last saw you, Newt. Shall we resume our conversation in my flat?"

Upon reaching her house, the pathologist handed the treasure-hunting beast over to its rightful owner who after putting the Niffler back to where it belonged, plopped his feet on the suitcase as a temporary non-magical solution to the lock problem. "Still do not like using magic?" The magizoologist enquired while Molly prepared tea and shortbread with raspberry jam filling.

Molly shrugged her shoulders, as best as she could when holding a heavy tray until Newt helped her with it but not before summoning some extremely thick books from the shelves and stacking them on top of the suitcase to prevent it from opening in case there was a jolt of any sort. "You know me, Newt. I would like to use it only when necessary." She filled the cups with hot tea as the magizoologist murmured, "You were always different, Molls."

During her time in Hogwarts, other pureblood students would bully Molly and call her nasty names because her father chose to refrain from the use of magic. His behaviour was thought to be an act of betrayal against his prestigious pureblood ancestry and considered such an unforgivable crime that the head of his family, his brother ultimately disowned him.

That was when Molly met them, Newt and Leta who were already close from the very beginning due to their mutual love of magical creatures and the feeling that they were both outcasts. That was also when Molly fell in love with Newt, not that she expected him to reciprocate for it was clear to her that Newt was madly in love with Leta. Molly buried her affections for him and everything was well until the Incident.

She could remember that they were having a screaming match about Newt being an utter fool for taking the blame when it should be Leta facing the consequences of her own actions and he shouted back, "It's none of your bloody business, Molly! Quit being a busybody all the time!" It was the last time they talked before she left Hogwarts. Prior to her hurried departure, Molly interceded with Professor Dumbledore and earned a promise from their Transfiguration teacher that he would do his best to ensure that Newt would not be expelled.

It was a chance encounter some years later that reunited Newt and Molly which was something that the pathologist was grateful for and cherished. Her feelings for Newt did not disappear; he was her first love after all, it simply evolved from a romantic nature to viewing him as part of her extended family. "So how was your trip to New York? I heard from Meena that you caused quite a stir in MACUSA. Did you, I don't know, make any new friends there?"

The magizoologist grumbled, "The two of you are such gossip bugs." Molly shot back, "We are only looking out for you, Newt. You should be honoured that we care for you well enough to ask after your love life." He wanted to evade the question by attempting to answer nonchalantly, "We are merely…friends," and muttered, hoping that the pathologist would not catch it, "I promised that I would return and present her with a copy of my book once it's finished."

Molly playfully slapped his shoulder, "Newton Artemis Fido Scamander! You promised your lady friend that you would board a ship just so you could deliver your book to her personally and you are telling me that you two are merely friends?" The magizoologist tried to explain but failed spectacularly, "You know it's terribly difficult to apparate across continents and it's the way you put it that made it sound like a romantic gesture…" She protested loudly, "Because it is, Newt!"

The pathologist continued in a more serious manner, "No one is saying that it has to develop into a romantic relationship but if you feel that this newfound friendship could truly turn out to be something very special, nurture it and who knows, that lady might end up to be your wife. Some things are worth the wait and effort, Newt."

He then ruined the touching moment by asking, "What about you and the gentleman with the peculiar name?" Molly resisted the urge to roll her eyes, "Unlike you and your lady friend, we are strictly friends," while ignoring Newt's remark of "Pot calling the kettle black." They observed his suitcase made a muffled thud from the inside and the pathologist told him, "You really should get that lock fixed, Newt. We would not want a repeat of what happened in New York."

"Are you chasing me out your flat? You wound me deeply." The pair smiled at each other and she kissed his cheek, "You may be annoying, Newt Scamander but you are still my friend. I will see you soon?" The magizoologist replied dutifully, "I will see you soon, Molls."

The pathologist was washing up the tea set when a man apparated into her living room. "They would be so disappointed in you, dear niece. You were their favourite grandchild, the apple of their eyes. It was bad enough that you quitted Hogwarts in the middle of your studies but you further soiled our family name by working at a muggle hospital, cutting up dead people."

Molly dried her hands and glared at him. "After Grandpapa died, you condemned your brother and declared him no longer part of the family so correct me if I'm wrong but as his daughter, I have nothing to do with you or your Supremacism notions." Her words infuriated the man as he pulled out his wand and pointed it at her, "It will do you good if you were to show some respect to your elders. That worthless brother of mine had evidently failed to bring you up proper."

"Expelliarmus!" Molly successfully removed his wand and the man's face reddened significantly, "You insolent-" The pathologist interrupted his rage speech coldly, "If you hold to the belief that I rarely use magic and therefore I'm not good at it then you are sorely mistaken. It will also do you good if you were to have some respect for your late brother. Leave now."

The man sneered as he bent down to retrieve his wand from the floor. "Your little lover, Sherlock Holmes, he is a consulting detective? A rather unique profession, I must say and comes from a somewhat respectable family but a lowly muggle nevertheless. It would be difficult for you to sink any lower than you are right now, niece." In a bat of an eyelid, Molly pulled his arm to the back and twisted it at an awkward angle. "Coerce me again and you will find yourself with a dislocated arm, _uncle_."

The pathologist deliberately added more pressure on the man's arm before releasing him. "And for the last time, I will not work for Gellert Grindelwald. He and his followers will inevitably fail and be punished for their crimes. However illustrious your beloved family name is, it will not save you from a lifetime in prison. If you are not going to cease in your wrongdoings, I will be inclined to stop you myself."

The man shook his head mockingly. "Tsk tsk, you are possibly the most talented witch our family ever produced and look at you, throwing away the beautiful gifts that you were born with. What a shame, what a waste." He disapparated while his spiteful words lingered on like a horrible stench, "You might be able to stop me if you were not so fearful of magic. You are just as weak as your pathetic father."

_Young Molly was playing a game of Imagination by herself when she came across a stick that somehow got caught behind a cabinet. Curious, the child dug it out and started playing with the stick. She was pretending to be a witch. Her mother saw how dangerous it was and tried to take back the wand. However, the child was immersed in her game and refused to hand it over. The next thing Molly knew was her mother lying on the ground, gasping in pain._

_Molly's father heard the commotion and rushed into the room. She would never forget her father's expression when he looked at her and cried, "What did you do?!" From that day onwards, magic became a taboo subject in their household. At eleven years old, Molly received her acceptance letter and the primary reason she went to Hogwarts was to learn how to control her magic. Molly's father respected his daughter's decision. For Molly to move on with her life, she needed to face the demons from her past._

_When the school informed Molly that her father was dying, she immediately applied for leave to stay by his bedside. "Be brave, my child. Don't blame yourself, it was an accident." Those were her father's last words but unfortunately ,it was not entirely the truth. She ended her mother's life and her father was trying so hard to live for Molly's sake but it was all too much for him, losing the love of his life and knowing that their daughter took her away from him. She was the cause of his death, like how she was her mother's._

_After her father's passing, Molly did not go back to Hogwarts. She would follow in her father's footsteps and saw no point to carry on with her education in Hogwarts. Was it a self-imposed punishment for killing her parents or a convenient excuse to remain a bloody coward? It did not really matter, she had simply forsaken herself._

"You are no better than your uncle, Molly." The pathologist laughed harshly at herself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was darker than I intended but I know Sherlock would help Molly with her inner demons. Thank you so much for reading and hopefully I will see you soon, goodbye for now!


End file.
